From the Lands beyond the Waste
by AleathaFondir
Summary: A young woman is raised as an Ayyad and flees Shara on a desperate quest.
1. The Beginning

**1.A Shadow under the Rising Sun.**

Now.   
With all her gathered strength, Cei'ila ran through the city gates into the district where the less fortunate people lived, hidden in a cloak of shadows onto the main road, out of the city they called Cairhien. Her bare feet splashed in the mud that formed the road as the tiny girl dodged carts passing by and escaped collision with unwary travelers. On she ran, knowing her tiny frame gave her an advantage to her pursuers, strong men on horseback, who had to be more careful and had more trouble getting past those looking for shelter in the Inner City. 

There are strange lands, she thought, wrapping her cloak tighter around her to make her cover more effective. Strange lands, to enforce law so strictly on petty thieves while the city is a beehive full of thugs. Cei'ila had reached the city yesterday and this morning she had found herself hungry for some fresh food, two years on dried meat, vegetables and an occasional hunting prey had made her long for a juicy piece of fruit. The apples on the market in the city they called Cairhien had not looked as appealing as some of the fruits she had eaten before, but after those years, they had been the best thing she had ever seen. 

She had only taken three of them, and, despite her cover, she had been seen by a few passers-by. "Shadowspawn," they had screamed and the City Guards had taken up the chase immediately, at least twelve of them on large war-horses chasing the tiny girl from the lands beyond the Waste. 

Her shield was holding up still but it was of little use here, out in the open. Saidar was running through her like a wild river, she strained to keep up the shield and at the same time make the physical efforts it took to outrun the Guards. She couldn't continue doing this for much longer. In the distance, she heard the thumping of hooves and she thought she could hear the voices of the City Guards already. Strange to think they'd continue their function outside the city. And stranger still to think they called this a city, a rather random collection of houses on a hill. 

A bend in the road was coming up and Cei'ila knew it was now or never. Hiding in her Cloak of Shadows, she ran, hearing the leader of the Guards scream, "Shadowspawn, don't let it get away!" Around the corner, she jumped into the bushes and held still, completely hidden. Eyes closed, she pushed herself as closely to the ground as she possibly could, at the same time listening to her pursuers catching up with her. 

"She can't be far away," their leader called, his voice low and a bit nasal. "You, Sadiro, dismount and search the bushes. She must be there." Another man started speaking, his voice notably higher. Cei'ila didn't think he'd be old enough to shave. "It was Shadowspawn, Captain. We have all seen it. It could blend in the shadows like a Halfman! I would get killed if it caught me!" 

Cei'ila lifted her head to peer through the bushes, to see a strange scene of men in a circle, all of them occasionally looking over their shoulders as if they heard a sound. A man with three plumes on his helmet, most likely the 'captain' the young man had been speaking to, shook his head slowly. "I suppose we could say it turned to ashes as soon as we killed it," he said. Certainly he didn't dare show his fear. The other men nodded eagerly and the group turned back to the city, a cloud of dust marking their path. 

Running a hand over her head, Cei'ila let herself lean backwards to rest. She noticed short black curls were covering the patches of her head that had not been tattooed and she realized she must look foolish now, unworthy, even. She took one of the small red apples out of the pocket of her cloak and ate it, before falling asleep. 

** 2.A Bird bound in Chains.**

Left foot first, then right, jump, and left again… A small figure danced through the darkened streets of the Ayyad community, humming a nursery rhyme. Her frizzy dark hair was gathered in two braids that hung down her back, her dark brown skin was yet unmarked. Just a child, on her way home after a long day learning… 

"Greetings," she heard, no more than a whisper and in a very strange accent. Maybe the stars were talking to her. They always seemed to talk to her when she was alone, that's why she liked to spend time outside in the dark. "May you be favored," she responded, waving to the face of the moon. "Greetings," she heard again and she noticed it were not the stars talking to her, since the sound came from a lower source. Maybe it was the Earth, instead. 

Cei'ila sank down on her knees, clutching her ragdoll in both hands. "G…Greetings," she whispered to the Earth, somewhat expecting a response. "Who are you?" He spoke in a way very different from the way her mother and the others did, as if he knew the words but wasn't used to speaking them. He, indeed. It was a boy. "Cei'ila," she responded. "And you?" A soft laughter emerged and Cei'ila saw a tiny hole in the ground. On her knees, she crawled towards it and moved her head so to listen closer. "I have no name," the voice said. "I live here." 

Cei'ila thought for a moment. "You cannot have no name," she said, "because I have to be able to call you something." She looked up at the stars, in awe of the large number of those twinkling lights. "I will call you Ti'liyo," she said. "Can you see the sky?" A moment of silence, and then, "do you mean those dots above me? Yes, I can see it." Cei'ila giggled; this person plainly wasn't very clever. "Those are stars," she said. "Can you see those six stars there, five of them in a circle and the sixth above them? They are called Ti'liyo, too. It means 'free bird', I think. It is your name now." 

She stood up, realizing dinner might be getting cold by now. "I must go home. Will you be here tomorrow?" She was answered by laughter only. 

It was so that young Cei'ila started talking to Ti'liyo every night, educating him about the world outside. When she was eight years old, she learned Ti'liyo had to be a boy born of one of the Ayyad. He was likely to go mad in a few years and thus the Ayyad kept him safely in a dungeon under the ground. She could not really believe it, now that Ti'liyo was becoming a friend of hers. Somehow, it didn't feel right that he shouldn't be allowed to walk free. 

When she was fourteen, Cei'ila was positively tested and she received her first tattoo. The contract was signed in her own blood and she became an Ayyad in training for the seven years to come. She wouldn't be able to claim the title until she had fulfilled what was written in the contract; she would have to bear a child to keep the blood of the Ayyad alive. Not a girl, and not a woman, her training was difficult but she kept visiting Ti'liyo every night, no matter what happened. Until she was nineteen years old. 

On one night, he was gone. In the months to come, Ti'liyo didn't reappear. Silently, Cei'ila mourned him. 

** 3.Water and Shade.**

She moved the heavy wool of her cloak from her face and her deep brown eyes looked at the silver face of the moon. The sand had kept her warm all day and had protected her from the creatures that dwelled the desert, and now that the sun had set she would be able to continue her journey through the cold of the night. It was incomprehensible the temperature could rise and drop so quickly, but she had soon found out she found the cold of the night more comfortable to travel in than the heat of the day. 

Shaking the sand that covered her body off, she stood up. She channeled flows of Air and Water directed into the leather bag she had brought and had soon gathered enough water to drink. Opening her bags, she scanned for some food and found a few straps of dried meat. Cei'ila had been able to bring enough of it to see her through a few weeks, so she had to hunt as well as she could in this barren land. Chewing the tough substance, she went to the low bush where she had set her traps yesterday. A thin lizard was caught in one of them and since they lived in her native country too, she knew she'd be able to eat it. The young woman put on her cloak and tied the creature to her bag. She would have it for lunch today. 

The sand was still hot under her bare feet but was cooling down quickly as night took hold of the Waste. Covered in her Cloak of Shadows, she had been able to avoid being seen by any of the people living here, those known as Aiel. She had stolen their food, occasionally, but they were more watchful than the people she was accustomed to were, and she only did it if she was certain she could avoid notice. 

The lands were getting cooler as the months passed, she had learned that there should be places where water ran freely, beyond this endless, horrible desert. 

Cei'ila began to run. Another day to get her closer to a place where she could start over, a base where she could prepare to strike back and free her dead son… Saidar was comforting inside her body, a light she could fall back on in these dark times. Her feet hit the ground in the rhythm of her heartbeat as she moved further toward the horizon, where mountains promised the changes she needed. 

** 4.Of Growing Up.**

The five Eldest and her mother had summoned her this morning. They had let her read the contract she had signed five years ago and had explained to her the time had come for her to fulfill the ritual that would make her Ayyad. Her whole face was tattooed now and when she would be awarded the next marking, she would have to start shaving her head. Her hands were unmarked yet, only those who had fulfilled their training could get markings on their hands and not all of them were awarded to do it. 

She had nodded in understanding and agreed. She was nineteen now, old enough to be raised to the next level. Right now, she was in her small sleeping room, dressed in silk shifts, holding her head in her hands and crying softly. She was afraid. It was six months ago that Ti'liyo vanished and she was convinced he was dead, he wouldn't leave her alone like that. He had been her only friend and in these hard times, she needed support… 

Three knocks on her door and with a loud creak, someone opened it. A servant pushed in a man bound in chains and tossed her a small bunch of keys. The door was slammed close before she had had the chance to say anything and she was left there with that unearthly creature, bound, gagged and blindfolded, his skin pale and the flesh on his bones hanging loosely, as if he didn't know how to move. 

She jumped down on the floor and hesitantly found the lock that held the chains together. A small golden key unlocked it and with a sound that seemed deafening, the chains fell on the ground around the man. He moved his arms and Cei'ila quickly backed away. 

Tears in her eyes, she stripped of the silk shift and laid down on her soft mattress, her eyes closed and her thoughts fixed on something far away, on the days she had known happiness. 

The ritual was repeated daily for a moon until it was certain the contract had been fulfilled. After that, the Eldest of Healers came to examine her and it was stated she was indeed with child; it had been successful. 

The execution was set two days later. Under the bright sun, the man was brought to the main square and he was bound to the altar with leather straps. The Elders formed a circle around him and the Eldest channeled tiny flows of Fire to remove the blindfold and the gag. 

"So you may look upon our Lord Sun for once, and know your destiny is fulfilled!" 

The pale man closed his eyes and tried to mask them from the sun with his hand, but the leather straps didn't allow him to move the slightest bit. He made soft sounds that could be heard nonetheless, he seemed to be sobbing… 

Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked up, eyes grayish-green like peppermint leafs. Like lightning. "Cei'ila!" he shouted, his voice broken with pain. "Cei'ila, see me fly freely now! Ti'liyo you called me, and Ti'liyo I will be!" 

He then laid down and didn't move again, while the circle of women around him started forming a web that would painlessly drain the life out of him. 

The woman let the web vanish and thick clots of earth fell on the ground, some of them staining the white marble stone she had placed on it. Cei'liyo, it read. With a pained cry, Cei'ila threw herself on the soil and her warm tears dripped on the soft marble, the grave of her son. 

After the execution, Cei'ila's ability to channel had slowly begun to wither. It was part of the pregnancy, they said, and it would come back. It was strange to wake up and notice saidar was gone; strange to live without truly being alive. It had not been stable for moons and then when finally her child was born, the splendor of being filled with Light again had been enough to take her mind from the tragedy for a short time. 

It did come back though. 

Her child had been a boy. They had taken him from her instantly and given him to the nursery women who served in the dungeons. She would never see him again. They said she shouldn't worry about it; nature was made this way, after all. But it hurt. The child had had striking green eyes, and they haunted her in her dreams, along with the eyes of his father. 

She had secretly named the boy Cei'liyo, a combination of her name and the name she had given Ti'liyo. Where Ti'liyo meant Free Bird, Cei'ila was Ocean Soul. Cei'liyo was Free Soul, the only thing Cei'ila hoped she could have given her son. He was dead to her. He would never truly be allowed to live. 

On the night they had taken her child away, they had shaved her head and placed the tattoos that marked her an Ayyad of the lands known as Shara. 

** 5.The Shining Walls.**

She let the water soak through her clothes until her near-black skin felt cold enough to make her shiver. She would never get used to this, the abundance of clean water. After her encounter in Cairhien, things had only improved. The further she went, the richer the lands, and she couldn't believe the amount of it that was not being used, the water that was wasted and flowed into the Ocean. 

Cei'ila lifted up her heavy, soaked cloak and stepped out of the water, then channeled an intricate weave of Air and Water lifting up the moisture and letting it fall back into the river. She picked up her bags and set off on the road again, her Cloak of Shadows hiding her in the bushes she walked past. 

She had spotted a tower on the horizon yesterday and even though she was trying to avoid notice as much as she could, it had somehow drawn her. She had to know what it was, even if it meant entering a city again and struggling not to be noticed. The road was broad here, and paved with stones so that heavy wagons could ride on it without risking to damage their wheels. Many travelers passed here, nearly all of them towards the tower in the distance. It had to be something special, then. 

By noon, she reached a small village, houses with thatched roofs and countless shops and inns, it seemed to thrive on the money visitors spent here. It was not like most villages, not just a place for people to live… Indeed, the faces she saw in the street were as varied as the colours of the autumn leaves on the trees, the accents strange and unknown, all of them tuneful and flowery, though. Before she had spoken with anyone, Cei'ila already disliked these people. 

The major part of the crowd was still moving towards that strange Tower in the distance and Cei'ila followed them in the shadows, her Weave hiding her from eyes that should not see her. It was strange to be here around people that were so different, so… Cei'ila nearly choked as a woman was talking to the gatekeeper caught her eye. She was dressed in rich silks and wore soft leather boots, her horse was well-groomed and looked expensive. It wasn't that that caught Cei'ila's attention, though. The woman could channel. 

The tiny dark figure dodged past the guards and ran through the gates, certainly noticed now but able to hide as soon as she had crossed. The weave she used to go unnoticed was inverted; none would sense her channeling and only the very watchful would be able to see her. That woman should've been marked, she thought, and she shouldn't be walking free like that, or talking to commoners… It shook the very fundaments of her beliefs. 

She hadn't had much time to notice the splendour of the courtyard she was now in, but now that she looked around she noticed it was more beautiful than Cairhien or the villages she had passed through. The buildings were mostly light grey or silvery and some of them had a grace that made them seem grown from the earth. All of them lost their splendor when compared to the Tower that formed the center of the grounds, though. Keeping close to the walls, Cei'ila tried to get closer to it, determined to satisfy her curiosity without being seen. 

Passing through a rich garden, green plants growing in abundance making her deep brown eyes blink, she saw some of those women again. Dressed in rich silks, talking in moderate volume, they walked through the city and wherever they went, people bowed for them, muttering words that sounded like Assadai and praying the Light would shine on them. All she could do was follow them. If there were more women like them around, maybe she'd be able to find someone who could help her here. 

** 6.All things must end.**

For two years, she trained fervently, trying to forget what had happened by burying herself in knowledge. Her whole head was shaven now and the markings colored most of her dark scalp, her hands bore a few figures too. She had turned out to be talented and her ability to hide in the shadows had made her a valuable spy for the Sh'boan and the Sh'botay. She worked weather rituals too, calling rains to the driest parts of the land. 

It didn't suffice. Every night, two pairs of green eyes looked at her until exhaustion allowed her sleep, and then, in her dreams they would be there again, one of them screaming her name and asking for life, the other one crying and begging for death. Ayyad or not, this could not continue. 

That week, the Sh'botay would die. The Sh'boan would choose a new companion and there would be celebrations in the city. The Ayyad would be there to supervise, to see to it nothing went wrong. She would flee on that night. 

Until then, Cei'ila used her ability to steal food from the kitchens, dried meat and vegetables, things she'd be able to eat months from now. It was a long journey she would make and she wasn't sure if she would survive, despite the skills she had learned during her training. She hid it all in a large bag under her bed, along with thick woolen clothes – another thing she would need desperately. 

The days passed and the time to flee came. On the moment the Sh'boan kissed the Sh'botay-to-be standing aside of the former Sh'botay's body, fireworks burst loose and the people started celebrating. Cei'ila tied her bags on her back and ran for the palisades, burned a hole in the wall with Fire and ran through it, to the west. 

Green eyes loomed behind her thoughts, tears filled them and slowly slid into her unconscious mind. 

** 7.Second Chances.**

They did go to that Tower. The Wheel wove strangely if it had taken her here to see destiny fulfilled. On their way, Cei'ila noticed more and more woman who could channel, all of them richly dressed though as various in looks as the other people who dotted the city. 

Through the largest doors she had ever seen they entered into a huge hall where countless people were waiting, and girls in white were making their way, nearly running. Probably servants. Suddenly, a hand grasped Cei'ila's collar. She turned around and let her shield drop and she saw that a golden hue surrounded the woman who had found her, the same golden hue that had to be framing Cei'ila's tiny body. 

"That do be strange," the woman said in a thick accent. "A Wilder that do have slipped into the Tower unnoticed… Aleatha Sedai will be wanting to see you, I'm sure she will…" 


	2. Fall from Grace

**Fall from Grace**

The dripping of water was the only sound that could be heard in the tiny room. A dark-skinned young woman stood on a three-legged wooden stool, seeing her face in the small mirror and touching the black tattoos that seemed to crawl over her face with her child-like fingers. In her other hand, there was a knife. Her eyes, pools of dark brown, looked sad as she saw the place she was allowed to call home now in the mirror. Her bald head was shining with the remains of water and lather the woman had used to shave the stubble of hair that would never cease to grow there off. It was a part of her, these strange looks, a mark of lost pride. It had taken her many years of long, hard training to be allowed to shave her scalp, to be allowed to call herself an Ayyad. 

Cei'ila studied the razor and wiped off a tiny drop of blood. Another day in a life that was not her own, another day away from what really mattered. Because some things did matter, more than others. The small black woman was a mother, although few would guess that. The mother of a son she had given the name of Cei'liyo, Free Spirit. The mother of a son who knows neither his name nor his mother. The boy would live in a dungeon, deep below the buildings among the palisaded walls in the lands beyond the Waste, the lands these illiterate people referred to as Shara. 

The first time she realised her place of birth was no longer her home had been painful, a sharp pain like a knife piercing her skin. Now, it was duller, like the throbbing pain of the needles that had made those black markings on her deep-brown skin. A pain that could be ignored but could never be forgotten. Many called the Grey Tower their home, Cei'ila never would. _Home_, she thought, _home is where my son is. Home is where I have buried my heart… Grace, Ti'liyo!_

She stepped off the stool onto the small rug in the middle of her novice room. The Mistress of Novices had proved a reasonable woman and did not expect Cei'ila to share a room with any of the green girls who shared her position here. She was an exception to everything, it seemed, although some of these Aes Sedai seemed to refuse the mere possibility of one novice being different from the others. The rough woollen novice whites were no different from anyone else's though, or perhaps a tad smaller. The only Westlanders shorter than her were their children. Ironic, maybe. She refused to let it hurt her. 

She was about to get dressed when a thought struck her and made her turn, to see her own face in the mirror again. Fine lines on her face made her look younger than she was, but a sort of serenity had settled on her face, the sign of someone wielding the One Power for many years. As an Ayyad, she had channelled almost constantly and now they restrained her, keeping her bound to their oaths and their laws and their strange sense of pride, or lack thereof. Her face was that of a newly raised Aes Sedai, not yet ageless but serene and smooth nonetheless. 

A wry smile on her autumn red lips, the Sharan opened the small chest that contained the belongings she had been allowed to keep. Snug brown breeches and a shirt that had certainly seen its best days and a dark grey cloak of fine, warm wool. She hadn't worn those clothes since that day four years ago when she had fled her former home, looking for a way to save her reason for living. Cei'ila put them on and noticed she had slimmed, the little flesh that had been on her bones had vanished and left her thin and fragile. Again, she looked at herself, and for a moment she was almost that girl again, the girl who had not believed in cruelty and ill luck. 

Today would end it all. Today, Cei'ila the Ayyad, Cei'ila the novice of the Grey Tower, Cei'ila the Assassin, Cei'ila the Mother, she would be restored with what made her whole – or die. She drank in the Power that had been granted to her and wove the cloak of mists, inverting the weaves, hiding her from everyone… shading her in nothingness. For the first time in weeks she felt herself again, the repressed spirit that was deep inside her tortured body. Moving with the stealth that fit her like a glove, she left the room that was not her own through the Tower that was not her home… out of the gates and down the road, carrying naught but a small bag of supplies that would guide her through the wilderness on days when she could not provide her own food. 

The thought of going through that desert again made her despair more and more as days came and went, running down the roads of Andor in a quick pace she had made her own. Small, lithe and athletic, most passers-by noticed nothing but a change in the air, a few shades of brown and green that perhaps differed from what they had seen before. A blink, and it was gone. Cei'ila ran, cloaked in delicious saidar running through her veins… 

* * *

Weeks passed, and lands passed, changing from the lush deltas of Andor to the rocky outskirts of the Spine of the World gradually, hills slowly becoming mountains as the desert drew closer. Her cloak was sometimes too thin to guard her from the icy winds in the Mountains and in the nights, she had to draw as close to her fire as she dared so not to risk freezing… High up on the Spine of the World the snow never faded. 

It was one night, some five weeks after she had fled, when Cei'ila was making her camp when her destiny was… altered. Trying to make a fire from a few twigs of dry wood she had miraculously found somewhere, she took a careless step backwards and all of a sudden, the snow beneath her feet cracked and crumbled, leaving the tiny woman hang suspended by her hands above a large precipice. 

_Death comes for us all,_ she thought, closing her dark brown eyes and preparing for what would be her final struggle. _Ti'liyo, we shall be together after all…_ She could feel her fingers numb and knew she would not be able to hold on for much longer… when suddenly she felt the warm touch of a soft female hand on hers, the voice accompanying it calling for her attention… 

"_Cei'ila_," the voice came, eerie and somehow unaltered by the howling winds, "_this is the hour of truth. I hold your life in my hands. Pledge your service to me, Cei'ila, Ayyad, Assassin, and you will be saved… Serve me, serve the Great Lord of the Dark…_" Shaking her head ferociously Cei'ila coughed, trying to gather enough moisture in her throat to speak. "Never," she whispered, a hoarse voice crawling out of her throat, nearly eaten by the howling winds. "Don't you know life means nothing to me, witch?" 

The voice laughed, it was the most terrible sound she had ever heard, booming through the dark night where her fire had long since been extinguished… Straining, the former Ayyad managed to look over the edge of the precipice, seeing a female shape radiating a gloomy, pale green glow… "_Doesn't it, Cei'ila the Mother? I have something I believe you value more than your life, Cei'ila the Novice._" And suddenly, from within the folds of the woman's glowing white skirts stepped a young boy, skin as dark as wet soil, eyes as green as grass on a spring day. 

"Cei'liyo," Cei'ila screamed, piercing the air with the cry of despair of someone who had lost everything. "My child, my… my LIFE!" She threw her head in her neck and howled, feeling the chains of an unbreakable pledge loom above her. The soft hands smoothly lifted her onto solid ground again, and there she lay, breathing heavily, eyes closely shut and full lips whimpering words of prayer, words of hope and words of utter despair. Her eyes opened slowly to see the bright green eyes of her son peer into hers. "Mother?" the boy said, a tear rolling down his cheek could be seen in the pale glow of the unearthly creature. 

Pushing herself up on her elbows, Cei'ila turned to the woman. "What if I don't?" she asked, her voice broken and tired, that of an old woman nearing her death. "_If you don't,_" the voice replied, "_I shall bring him back. They were taking good care of him down there, Cei'ila the Ayyad. Any pig or goat would envy his chains!_" Large tears streaming from the corners of her dark eyes, Cei'ila knelt before the servant of the Dark One. "Will he be allowed to go with me if I pledge," she asked softly, her voice barely able to whisper in this moment of utter darkness. The ghastly woman nodded, a cruel smile on her bloodless lips. "Then I will," Cei'ila said, and high above them thunder raged in the night air. 

"_SAY IT THEN, CEI'ILA THE ASSASSIN_," the voice boomed, making the tiny woman push her hands fiercely to her ears, drawing her shivering son close to her, and that warm touch of her own blood, that moment of being whole again… That alone was worth it, that and nothing else. "_PLEDGE YOUR LOYALTY TO THE GREAT LORD OF THE DARK!_" Clenching her hands into fists, Cei'ila parted her lips to speak. 

"By my life and that of my son," she said slowly, dragging the words out of her mouth, "I pledge loyalty to the Great Lord of the Dark. I will serve him in any ways my lowly talents permit." Again, thunder struck and the ghoul cackled loudly as Cei'ila felt her oaths settle upon her, heavier than chains, worse than death. It didn't matter. She was with Cei'liyo again, she had saved her son from his awful fate among the palisaded walls of Shara… Everything was worth that. Even this. 

"_Your first orders, Cei'ila the Assassin_," said the woman, the glow dulling suddenly making her look drab, ugly. "_Go back to the Grey Tower and spread your lore. Teach them how to kill without leaving a trace. As Cei'ila the Assassin you shall serve. More orders will follow._" A flash of light appeared in the darkness and the woman grabbed Cei'ila's shoulder, pushing her and her son through the Gateway that had formed. In the distance, she could see the walls of the Grey Tower, the soft shine of a rising sun making them radiate in the darkness. "_Serve, Cei'ila the Friend of the Dark_," said the voice in a last whisper as the Gateway disappeared. 

* * *

It was thus that on a cold morning in late autumn, a runaway novice returned to the Grey Tower, carrying in her short arms a seven-year-old boy who had her face, and as she wound up the endless stairs to the office of the Amyrlin Seat, her vow kept repeating itself in her head, meaning more and more every time she heard it. _Cei'ila the Friend of the Dark._ She nodded to the Keeper of the Chronicles who couldn't hide her shock when she saw who had returned and as she was brought before Lelianna Aes Sedai she knelt smoothly and deeple. "I have run away, Mother," she said, "but I have repented and come back. I know I deserve punishment." 


	3. Respite

The Three Arches 

**First Arch: **

A blinding light surrounded her and from a place far away, coming nearer and nearer came the chanting of women, an age-old ceremony she had seen many a time before. Deep chocolate eyes looked at her for an instant and then became her own, fixed on a young man bounded to a large stone altar with straps of black leather, making his skin seem so pale it was nearly white despite his heritage. He was naked safe for a simple algode loincloth and a black satin blindfold, keeping his eyes from the blinding sunlight he would likely be unable to deal with. 

A man with no name, a man with no future, born of a Sharan channeller, he was doomed to one day show the signs of the gift himself, and in a man that meant darkness, destruction, madness and death. Her dark lips formed the words of the song and the circle tightened around the altar, all thirteen women blazing with the glorious light of _saidar_. The man would today be saved from his own danger and meet the Creator's embrace. He had fulfilled his purpose and the Ayyad would continue. Looking to the crowd, Cei'ila saw the young woman who was carrying his child, her face blank, the skin of her right cheek where her birth name had been marked was still swollen, trying to fight off the eternal ink it would soon have to get used to. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._

The chanting drummed through her veins and the circle of bright _saidar_, so much truer than sunlight, seemed to pulsate with the song of the ceremony. The man lay still, inanimate, as if he had already embraced the fate that would be his today. The circle grew tighter and Cei'ila accepted the lead of the stream, throwing her head back in her neck drinking in the immeasurable strength that was now hers. _Yes,_ she thought, _so should it be, first of the Elders and passer of judgement._ And then suddenly, as strangely as the voice she seemed to have heard earlier, a feeling of darkness seemed to creep over the Ayyad as a realization dawned on her, black enough to make her scream. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast. He is not doomed. _Saidin_ has been cleansed._

Backing away as though from a dangerous viper, Cei'ila covered her face in her hands, dark markings spidering up her fingers seemingly melting in the similar designs on her face, the oldest markings already faded with the long years. _All those men! Innocent!_ She dropped on her knees gasping loudly as the circle was drawn away from her, tearing her away from the Source abruptly leaving pain and emptiness alone. Sirri stared at her, anger clearly painted on her face. The youngest of the elders, she was, and the strongest in the Power by far. No one else would've been able to snatch the lead away from Cei'ila, and the fact she had just done so meant clear disrespect, and possibly the end of Cei'ila's life. 

She was old. She had become redundant. And she knew too much. Only then did she realize the chanting had stopped and the circle was now of twelve women, all of them looking at her, eyes of brown and hazel and some of a stormy dark green. 

"He's innocent," Cei'ila whispered. "It has been cleansed, the male half, and he is like you and I! Like you and I!" Her last words hardly bore any sound for their looks proclaimed judgement as clearly as any could be spoken. One by one, they turned away from her, reforming their circle and the chanting resumed, louder and more threatening than it had been before. 

"You must listen to me," Cei'ila screamed, trying to get up, thin fingers clawing at the hem of Sirri's robes. "He's innocent, he can't help who he is!" Getting onto her feet, Cei'ila could see the blindfold taken away from the man's eyes and he looked at her, bright blazing green cutting through her soul, tearing her apart. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._

_Ti'liyo._ It was him all over again, the death, the pain, the darkness! It was too much. Tearing frantically at everything her hands could find, Cei'ila's screams were muffled in the loud chanting as the blazing whirlwind of _saidar_ settled on the poor victim, his eyes silently pleading for deliverance. And then, to the left of the circle, an arch appeared, its silver colour bright yet dull when compared to the net tightening on the male, ready to kill painlessly. _Grace, Ti'liyo!_ Hot tears covering her vision in a film of agony, Cei'ila ran through the arch, forcing herself not to look back. _Forgive me!_

**Second Arch: **

Drying off her tears with the back of her hand, the small novice followed the Mistress of Novices to the second arch, closing her eyes before entering with a hesitant step. _It wasn't real. Ti'liyo was long dead, and she was gone, no longer an Ayyad!_

Cei'ila was dropped harshly on a field of broken soil, the air thick and the sky a lead grey, threatening and dangerous. The distant clash of thunder seemed to make the clouds vibrate with a dull shine. Her gloved hands pulled her body up and brushed off the robes of darkest grey; it seemed Hiran took a sadistic pleasure in opening his Gateways several feet above the ground, if only to show the circle he still stood above them. In fact, the gaunt man stepped on the surface behind her, leisurely jumping onto the ground, his crimson cape bulging with the oppressive wind. 

"Remember, little one," he said, "you were not called here without reason. It seems the Lady has an important assignment for you, and if you disappoint her you will also disappoint me." His pale blue eyes seemed ablaze with fervour and, shivering, Cei'ila recalled what had happened with the last one who had disregarded his wishes. It had most definitely looked like Cary had committed suicide, yet the look of pure terror frozen on her dead face had made clear to her at least it had not been so. 

Cei nodded softly and turned her head to face the enormous fortress in the distance, a place she had only seen in her dreams until today. It was where _she_ dwelled, and if _she_ had a mission so important it could not be told to her in a dream Cei'ila considered it an honor to be summoned here, to the portals of Shayol Ghul itself. _Maybe,_ she thought, _she will finally put me above that fool of a man. Grace, it could be a matter of months until he's uncovered and he will take all of us down with him!_ The Lady had a lovely way of taking care of those who did not hide themselves well enough. Silently, Cei'ila prayed it would be Hiran's fate today, peering to him through the thick layers of dark gauze covering her eyes. 

* * *

Her forehead pressed so closely to the rough tiles it made her skin hurt, the dark woman listed to _her_ voice, so light and so splendid in the oppressive darkness of her chambers. _"They are too strong right now, so they must be weakened. It will be your task. Her daughter is too strong already, the danger too imminent, but the child Neilan can be killed, and his child, the girl Fai."_ Whimpering softly, Cei'ila let _her_ words overcome her, realizing the honour that befell her to be given this important task. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._

Cei'ila glanced up to the bright contours of her taskmistress and nodded, while beyond her veils a warm tear fell from a deep brown eye. 

* * *

Peering down from the tree branch she sat on, Cei'ila watched the boy and the girl playing with small wooden figures. "A dog, Fai, it is a dog." Cei couldn't help but smile, seeing the boy frantically trying to teach a two-year-old to speak. The girl, Fai, merely chattered in the strange gibberish young children developed before they even had a sense of language. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._

Her smile faded quickly as her fingertips found the hilt of the dagger on her belt. _Saidar_ was raging through her in sweet currents, the flows hiding her from the unwary eye, even for those gifted with the ability to channel. Calculating, Cei'ila knew it would be a matter of seconds to kill them both. The boy would have to take care of the baby girl, so no one would suspect an assassin's work. 

Then what kept her from proceeding? She had practised it so many times, a deft web of Compulsion and bonds of Air, making him stab the girl with his sword and then himself. Should it not work, she always had her dagger and her smooth gloves would make sure she left no trace of herself. She moved swiftly and unseen and no one would think the timid Accepted could be a cool assassin. _Then what kept her from proceeding?_

Watching the children play, she heard _her_ voice in the back of her mind. _They are too strong right now, so they must be weakened._ The Grey Tower endangered the Great Lord's reign and thus should be exterminated. Looking down silently, she remembered Cei'liyo speaking his first word to her. _Mother._ It was _her_ gift, _she_ was the one who had given Cei'ila a chance to live again, allowed her a sort of happiness no matter how small. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._

If she did not kill them, Hiran would come for her. He would not make her death look like an accident. She suspected he hated her so much he would start rumours and they would question her, and she would have to admit her oaths to the Great Lord and would be condemned before the watching eyes of the entire Tower, before the eyes of her son and only hope. There was no respite in death, she had learned that much over the years. 

Unsheathing her dagger, Cei'ila prepared the weaves and smoothly jumped down, landing before the boy. "Don't you dare speak," she hissed, the Compulsion weaves settling on the young boy's mind with incredible precision. He looked up to her and for a split second he was Cei'liyo, questioning her actions, wondering what was going on, how someone he had trusted was going to hurt him. Behind Neilan, the soft silver gleam of an arch flickered and Cei'ila knew it was for her, beckoning. 

Respite. For now. But what would she do when it was real? With a sob, she let go of her weaves and dodged through the Arch, her mind numb with pain. 

**Third Arch:**

As the light dulled to a throbbing darkness, a soft drizzle started dripping onto the woman who stood there -the woman who was Cei'ila. Her drab clothes were soaked with warm summer rain and the sky above was clearing up, the evidence of an earlier downpour clotting the dark soil to a thick mud. The air was heavy with the smell of burning wood and as she cast her eyes up, Cei'ila could see, far away in the distance, the smouldering ruins of a place that had never been her home. 

The Grey Tower had fallen. It was silent now, eerily silent yet every gust of wind however tiny seemed to carry in it the screams of humans, Aes Sedai and servants alike, screaming out in disbelief when they saw there was no way out, when they knew they were going to die like a flaming torch of human flesh. Strangely, Cei'ila realized those deaths were not what hurt her, yet there was a cold throbbing deep inside her body, as if her heart had been frozen and then shattered to pieces, and now it was melting once more, cold truth dawning upon her. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.   
Cei'liyo!_

Throwing her hands up in despair Cei'ila darted towards the ruins of the Grey Tower, dodging still smouldering remnants of the ancient trees that had once grown in the gardens, forcing herself not to look at the faces of those who had fallen, their expressions of utter horror or, even worse, surprise, disbelief. Through what had once been a doorway she ran, a wail trailing from her lips so unearthly in this place of death. 

Was it her mistake that she had never revealed to him her true nature? She had wanted to guard him from the Dark, that was all, she had wanted to be a good mother and to give her son fair chances despite what her Commanders had told her to do. They had not found out about it so far, yet if anyone saw what she was doing here today it would mean her own death without so much as a doubt. 

_Cei'ila?_ The voice was familiar by now and still, a shiver ran down her spine before she turned around to see the shape of her commander, gleaming with the eerie green light again like when they had first met, when she had tricked Cei'ila into giving her vows to the Great Lord of the Dark. 

"Great Mistress," the Sharan muttered, dropping onto her knees and blinking a few times, trying to overcome the sudden light in such oppressive darkness. There was something odd about her, her shape deformed... 

_Cei'liyo._ Grace, how could she? He was alive! 

In the woman's ghostly hands lay the shape of a young man, his skin dark as chocolate. He hung limply but Cei'ila could see the steady movements of his chest; he was breathing, he would survive! Throwing herself forward to the woman's feet, an unintelligible muttering parted the woman's full lips. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._

_"It seems one of those so-called Asha'man has not been wiped out as effectively as we had hoped, Cei'ila the Assassin. Kill him, and finish this job. You have done wonderful so far, the Great Lord will be pleased."_

_It had been a shrewd plan! Torches, and a ward against the One Power, placed around the Tower by the gathered forces of the Great Lord among its ranks. Few of these so-called Aes Sedai and Asha'man had known how to defend themselves without using the One Power, let alone free themselves from the all-devouring crimson tongues of fire that had meant their end._

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._   
A silver arch gleamed in the sickening darkness as her taskmistress knelt, laying Cei'liyo before his mother. The brown cord on his black coat had all but been torn off and on his lips was a soft hue of blue, the sign he was dying anyway and would not be saved unless a Healer miraculously appeared. His bright green eyes opened in a last moment of lucidity. 

"Mother?" His first word would be his last. _Cei'ila the Mother._ Would it be an act of mercy, to cut the thread she had spent so much time rescuing? Swallowing the lump in her throat, Cei'ila made to lay her hands on the forehead of her only true love in life. She had no great Talent in Healing but what she could do might be enough to save him! If it wasn't, it would kill him, but at least she would not be tormented forever with the knowledge she had never tried. 

_The way back will come but once. Be steadfast._   
_"You're not thinking of letting him live, now are you?_  
Looking up into the ghastly face of the one who had controlled her for so long, Cei'ila thought for a split second and decided. The arch was calling her. She didn't have to make this choice, she could run. Cei'liyo's death would not be of her doing alone... 

It seemed to take an eternity to lift her hands off the skin of her son and she couldn't turn back as she shied away through the arch. Light blinded the vision of the scene as she tumbled back into the room of the Arches, falling down on her naked back to look up to the Mistress of Novices.   
"Why," Cei'ila murmured, closing her eyes anticipating the downpour of cold water on her heated skin. 


End file.
